The Art Of War
by BruisedSmile
Summary: Competing for the upper hand had never been so much fun. They weren't about to stop now.


**The Art of War**

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><p>Rachel loved Monday mornings.<p>

It was the only day of the week they were able to indulge; the one time they were permitted to rise at their own leisure. The exhausting rush of the weekend was over, the euphoria of the previous night still echoing in the back of their minds, along with the warm (if slightly blurry) memories of the laughter and celebratory antics that had followed. It was their day of rest; their night of darkness.

As she lay there peacefully, she could hear the world around them rushing to and fro, everyone trudging back to work once again, the start of another week. It was a strange sensation and it still felt a little like playing truant sometimes. The streets below hummed with traffic and activity, the frenetic bustle and pounding rhythm of a city she knew by heart; one that she was proud to call home. A lazy grin stretched her lips. She knew that various obligations still hung over them; endless commitments that scrambled to fill up the coming hours, all too keen to make fresh demands on their precious time. Yet in the first few hours of every Monday morning, Rachel allowed herself to revel in the blissful feeling of having nowhere to immediately be and nothing urgent to do.

Ingrained habit still roused her from sleep at some ungodly early hour, but that only made the subsequent realisation of freedom all the sweeter. Nestling deeper into the soft pillows, she smiled and skimmed the tips of her fingers slowly down the curve of his back, soaking in the warm silk of his skin against hers. Her touch was gentle and light, unobtrusive and almost unconscious. She loved having him completely to herself again, however briefly. It was a selfish pleasure both were guilty of, and one that neither had ever managed to fully curb. Not that they had particularly tried.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. It was the lure of paradise in its purest form: the familiar heat of his body so close beside hers; the intoxicating memory of his voice weaving so perfectly through her own; the whisper of his eyes delving into hers, dark with shared secrets. Lost in the inviting intimacy of their bed, she found herself wishing for nothing more than the chance to stay here all day, wrapped up and hidden away in their private world.

It was moments like this that Rachel cherished – more so than she would ever admit to. Even more than the rapturous applause and growing recognition that defined her working and public life. Though that was very enjoyable too.

Her fingers traced the line of his shoulder, brushing the nape of his neck, before slipping over his spine. She smiled to herself as she recognised the haunting melody of their song that she was tapping out gently against his skin. It was funny: even after eight months, she was still captivated by its magic each and every time. She had a feeling that particular duet would follow them both for the rest of their lives.

"Mmm…don't…that…"

The sound was almost a soft groan, muffled by the pillows. Rachel lifted a surprised brow as she felt him shift under her touch, the muscles in his back stiffening slightly. She hadn't actually been trying to wake him up. Well, maybe subconsciously, just a little – but she'd really just been savouring their rare and relaxed morning together, letting her mind wander as her hands absently wrote out her daydreams on his body.

It took her another moment to register the words behind his sleepy mumblings. A curious frown crossed her face. She paused for a second before she reached out again, stroking her fingertips experimentally along the small of his back, a new and almost incredulous thought forming in her mind.

The mumble was louder this time, his body almost flinching away defensively from her gentle ministrations. _No way._ Rachel blinked in disbelief. _How_ had she not discovered this before? A wicked smile tugged her lips. She shuffled closer, leaning down over his shoulder to better see his face.

"Jesse," she probed softly, fighting to contain her grin as she saw his eyes crack open at the sound of her voice. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "You're…_ticklish_?"

That got his attention.

Only Rachel's trained and knowing eye could detect the subtle tension that tightened across his expression for a split second, before it was smoothly covered once more. He took his time to fully wake up, stretching out with an air of nonchalance as he craned his neck to look over at her, feigning sleepy disregard with an ease and skill that would have fooled anyone else in the world.

"Certainly not," he answered calmly, not missing a beat. There was a note of finality in his tone that made her arch a dubious eyebrow, rising to the silent challenge.

"Yes, you are."

His hesitation was minuscule, but it was there. Her composure abruptly broke into a wide grin. It was just too perfect. "Oh big mistake, St. James," she gloated, a gleeful twinkle in her dark eyes that was more than a little unnerving. "You should know better than to give an opponent that kind of winning tactic in the middle of a battlefield. You do realise you've just given away the ultimate advantage?"

Even as she spoke, her fingers were already trailing down between his shoulder blades, raking the sensitive skin so very lightly with her nails as her hand danced slowly over his bare back. She could feel the shiver of restraint that ran through his body, so faint but still unmistakable, and felt a thrill of satisfaction and excitement flutter in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't."

The command was exhaled on an uneven breath. She could just detect the muscles clenching in his jaw as he bit the word out, tight with the effort of holding back.

"What?" she replied innocently, in blatant disregard to the devilish grin on her lips. Fire burned through her teasing touch as her fingertips worked their way down to the base of his spine, before spreading out again in a fresh assault.

"Rach…stop," he moaned softly. His eyes were closed and pinched, almost in pain.

She couldn't resist. Leaning in close, she brushed her lips over his ear seductively, digging her nails in harder against his skin. Her gorgeous smile filled the taunting whisper, her voice sending an entirely different tremble rushing through him.

"Make me."

Rachel squealed with laughter as her world abruptly tumbled in a blur of movement. The effortless speed with which he reversed their positions still managed to catch her off guard, and as he roughly pressed her down on her back, it was clearly evident that this game would never cease to leave her breathless. Those deep eyes flashed with a playful danger that made her heart race in her chest as he leaned down over her, trapping her between his arms and under his body.

"You think I don't know _your_ vulnerable spots?" he murmured, his lips hovering just above hers, caressing her skin with the velvet threat.

She didn't even have time to retort before his hands were on her, those heavenly fingers weaving their own torture across her flesh. Rachel squirmed and writhed under the attack, her body convulsing with giggles and futile protest. She twisted and turned, instinctively fighting back as she tried to pry herself out of his grip, desperate to catch her breath and regain the advantage.

Something that was easier said than done. While they were pretty evenly matched in the arena of deviousness, when it came down to sole physical strength, Jesse held the edge over his tenacious lover – and there was no way he was letting her off the hook now she'd declared war. A sly smile curved his lips as his hand skimmed up her side, fingers playing over her ribs as they located the tender spot concealed there. His touch was merciless, deadly accurate and unwavering as he stroked and teased her skin with increasing inventiveness. He smirked to himself as he heard the object of his attentions curse and condemn him through her bubbling laughter.

Rachel sucked in a shallow breath as he eventually eased the assault, her body relaxing in relief, but the reprieve didn't last long. Fresh tension seized her muscles almost immediately as she felt his fingers drop down to run along the soft skin of her waist, trailing heat through her stomach. Rachel felt her insides melt with all-too-familiar desire as his hand slipped under the hem of her tank top, following the path of her body like a seasoned explorer, sliding higher…and higher…

A trembling gasp left her lips. Her eyes snapped open to meet his and she cocked an eyebrow at the silent triumph in his expression. "That's cheating," she admonished softly. Rachel tried to scowl her disapproval convincingly, despite the creeping provocation in her smile. It was a true accusation after all. Not that she actually minded; because she _really _didn't.

Jesse leaned down, bringing their faces to within an inch of each other. "I never promised to play fair."

There was a deep, ragged pitch in his voice that spurred the simmering ache inside her. She opened her mouth to quip back but he quickly took control once more, pulling away tauntingly before resuming the game, determined to make her surrender first. Peals of breathless laughter filled the bedroom as the struggle for the upper hand continued, neither willing to admit defeat. Rachel shoved his shoulder, swatting at his arms as she tried to roll out from under him, but Jesse only grinned and pinned her harder.

"I think you'll find escape is quite impossible," he teased, voice smug with authority. He closed his embrace tight around her, hooking his arm under her waist and pulling her into him. Her breath hitched in her chest, her eyes shining with an alluring mixture of passion and daring.

"You can't keep me here all day," she goaded, her smile sparkling with mischief.

He was so close she could feel his smirk against her lips, his fingers flexing into the small of her back. "I beg to differ."

With the whisper of that tantalizing promise still echoing in her ears, Jesse moved to capture her mouth in a scorching kiss – and Rachel discovered that maybe surrendering wasn't so bad after all.

Yep, Mondays were _definitely_ her favourite day of the week.

**~o~**

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><p><strong>AN<strong> Just some good old Jesse/Rachel fluff, because it does my little shipper heart good! Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are love and make my muse very happy :)


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